The Swan's Cove
by Bookworm1027
Summary: Bella Swan can only get through life with stability. Edward Cullen can't stay in the same place for too long. What happens when a meddeing mother throws them together? Who will stay and who will change? AU/AH. Will earn M rating.
1. Family Reunions

Family Reunions

Bella

"Ouch! Oh shit!" I gabbed my foot, my back arching as thin fingers clamped around my injured small toe. Across form me—sitting innocently on the floor—was a small, but deceivingly heavy, box. I glared at it, sitting on the ground to start pulling off my sneaker.

"Bella, dear?" I heard a light, calming voice call to me, the tone unnaturally musical. "Are you alright?" Her question was phrased with an unsurprising amount of concern behind it. I sighed.

"Yes!" I all but groaned out—not in pain, mind you, but embarrassment. "I'm fine!"

Esme didn't buy my act for a second. "I'll be right there!" she called, her voice a traveling a little farther away. "I'll get the first-aid kit!"

I groaned out again, dropping until I was flat on my back against the ground. There was no point in moving now—Esme was unstoppable when it came her maternal instincts.

Not that I was her daughter. Biologically at least.

I was an _employee_. But we were closer than that.

I starting working at _La Crique de __Cygne _almost a year ago, when I first moved to Chicago. I was fresh out of college—only a useless English degree to my name—and complete alone in this new city. After the first month here my debt starting filing up, my loneliness right along side it. At one point, it had gotten so bad that I even considered moving back to Forks, my home town, despite my reasons to stay far, far away…

One day I was walking home from another job interview gone array and it started to rain. Deciding to just wait it out, I ducked into Esme's shop. She saw me and smiled, welcoming me in like the loving mother I always wanted and the rest was history. Esme needed some help with the store and I needed a job.

After that moment, everything in my life seemed to click in place. I quickly met one of Esme's most loyal costumers, Alice Whitlock. As soon she her lithe body danced into the shop that first day, she pointed at my with unwavering confidence and declared that we were going to be closer than sisters. I was powerless to her charms. Sure enough, Alice and I meet up almost everyday now.

Soon afterwards, Esme introduced me to her eldest son, Emmett and his wife Rosalie—I had long since known her husband, the famous cardiologist, Dr. Carlisle Cullen.

I've never felt so surrounded by family before. I went from just me—alone and broken—and now I've got two brothers in Emmett and Alice's husband, Jasper. Two sisters in Alice and Rosalie, and the best make-shift parent I could dream of.

And yet, there was something missing from my new improved life. Even as wonderful as it was, I wondered if I would ever feel whole.

Esme, in the present, suddenly appeared before. Her middle aged face held all of the wisdom of old age, yet someone managed to retain all of her youthful beauty. Her kind eyes and cameral hair made her look soft and generous, while the emerald orbs in her stare gave the idea of power. She smiled warmly at me, seeming slightly amused at my grace troubles.

Lovely.

"Trip again, sweetheart?" she asked, kneeling down in front of my socked foot. Esme was one of the few people that didn't make endearments sound condescending.

"No!" I defended weakly. "I dropped the box on my toe."

She looked up at me curiously, beginning t pull the white garment off my foot. "What box?"

"The one with the books you wanted."

"For the Rosenberg shelf?"

I nodded.

She sighed, contently, probably relived that I hadn't managed to drop anything more important, but she didn't say anything else while she pulled off my sock as gingerly as possibly.

After it was completely off, the sight of my blue and swollen toe revealed to the room, she gave a low hum of worry. She pursed her lips worry, her emerald eyes darting to mine. I waited patiently for her to say something, only growing anxious when it she was silent for minutes longer.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, biting my lip. The small amount of pain in my toe was starting to throb. I held back a small groan.

"Bella, dear…" she hesitated, "I don't know if I'm going to be able to take care of this. Perhaps we should go see Carlisle."

I felt like pulling my hair out by the roots. This would be my third hospital visit this month. I was starting to suspect that the ER had a bed reserved for me. I wanted to argue with Esme, but I couldn't. She just looked so concerned.

"Alright," I sighed unhappily.

Esme's sigh, on the other hand, was out of relief. She took in one fluid, graceful movement that I could never accomplish and held a hand out for me.

I took it, and she tried to pull me up. As soon as my foot held the slightest bit of wait I hissed in pain, falling back to the ground with a thunderous thump.

"Oh, Bella!" Esme yelped in surprise. She fluttered her hands over me, trying to see if I had cause any other injures. After making sure I wasn't an worse off, she told me, her concern evident to a blind man, "I'm going to call Emmett."

She was out of the room before I could protest.

Emmett, always acting like the big brother I never had, found it extremely enjoyable to tease me for my obvious lack of coordination. I couldn't _wait_ to hear his comment this time.

Sure enough, abut five minutes later, a large hummer could be heard pulling up n front of the shop. A large man, his curly head of hair and innocent dimples in sharp contrast to his burly form, appeared in the doorway to the storage room, a large smirk covering his face.

"How ya' doing Bella?" he asked, the mischievous grin growing by the second.

I frowned.

"I'm great, Emmett. Fantastic. Practically on cloud nine."

He guffawed loudly at my sarcastic tone, walking over to me. He bent down low, slipping his muscled arms under me to support my light form.

He carried me out of the store—my face brighter than a ripe tomato—and carefully slipped me into the back seat of the hummer. His car—or _truck_ as he insisted I call it—was up to my waist. If Emmett hadn't been helping me, I would have broken my ankle just trying to get in.

Esme slid lithely into the passenger seat. "Esme," I argued at once. "You didn't have to close the store just because—"

She shushed me with a dismissive wave of the hand. "The store can survive one day without me, Bella. Your well being in far more important."

I sat the rest of the way quietly, still embarrassed that I had managed to ruin _yet another_ perfectly fine afternoon.

Thankfully, Emmett didn't have time to open his mouth because the trip to the hospital was relatively short. We made our way through the almost empty ER, finally stopping by the front desk. Esme asked the nurse to page Carlisle, and grabbed the hospital forms to fill out. Emmett sat me down in one of the comfortable hospital chair as we waited.

While we waited, Emmett struck up a conversation with Esme, his smile so large it almost filled his face.

"Hey mom," He said, his words slow, as if building the anticipation. "You'll never guess who called me this just before you."

Esme look slightly disinterested as she flipped absentmindedly through a quilting catalogue. "Who dear?" she asked her son.

"Jut a certain doctor who decided that he was getting tired of Africa."

And, though his hint sounded like absolute gibberish to me, I would have never expected Esme's reaction.

Her body bolted out of the hard plastic chair, the magazine dropping to the floor forgotten.

"He's…coming home?" She asked, her voice quivering. Her small frame was shaking, tears rolling down her face at a rapid pace. Emmett jumped up to, pulling his mother into a tight bear hug. Her tears were soaking both of them now.

Soon, his footsteps sounding as though he were running in a marathon, Carlisle appeared, his breathing hot and heavy. "I…is everything…alright?" he asked between pants, his accent slipping through. He braced himself on his knees, trying to regain composure.

As soon as he saw his wife—tearful, blotchy, and beautiful—he ran forward, checking her for injuries. "What's going—" he started to ask, but was cut off.

"Edward's coming home," she said, burying her head in his chest, sobbing loud tears of joy.

The doctors expression changed at once, going from horrified to euphoric in less than a heartbeat. He picked up Esme, spinning her around and kissing her in a way it made me embarrassed to look at.

Suddenly, I understood.

Edward, Esme and Carlisle's younger son, was a doctor who had been spending the better part of this year helping out camps in Africa. I had never met him—or even seen pictures—but I knew Esme worried about him more than anything else.

It brought me joy to see that the Cullen's were finally going to be complete again—to be whole.

Esme pulled away from her husband after a moment, walking back over to Emmett. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she demanded of him, the smile on her face making any anger in her voice disappear.

Emmett laughed loudly, ruffling her hair lovingly. " I wanted to see you reaction."

All three of the Cullens laughed heartily, and I joined along, unable to stop the pull of their joy.

"Bella!" Esme exclaimed happily. "You get to met Edward! I'm so—"he expression changed suddenly. Her eyes lit up brightly, and both she and Carlisle exchanged a significant look.

"Well, you just get Bella, feeling better, Hon." Esme said to her husband, not-so-subtly changing the subject. Then, another wide grin, "I should make a call to our long lost son."

"But I'm right here, Mom!" Emmett called out, causing all of us to laugh.

Carlisle pulled over a wheelchair, carefully setting me inside. "Bella and I will meet you at the house for dinner. My shift is over soon," he looked down to me for acceptance.

I nodded, of course.

"We'll see you later!" Emmett called loudly, as Carlisle pushed me through the ER doors.

H wheeled me over to an empty bed, helping me position myself on top of it before sitting down to examine m toe.

"How did this happen, Bella? Did you trip again?" He asked me a smirk in his tone. Sometimes, as different as they were normally, I thought Carlisle and Emmett could be ridiculously similar.

"I dropped a box of books on it." I answered a little unwillingly.

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head in exasperation.

We were silent for a few moment, until I built up the courage to speak again.

"So, you son, Edward, is coming home?"

I could see the smile in his check bones. He looked up at me. I saw in his hazel eyes that there was a fire, a spark, of something I hadn't seen before.

"He is." Then, his smile faded slightly, as though he had an inside joke. "I think you two will get along perfectly."

He saw my curious gaze, but neither one of us brought up the subject again.

**Here's the end of chapter one, I hope you liked it. And, just to let everyone know, **_**La Crique de**__** Cygne **_**means "The Swan's Cove", roughly, in French. **

**I really love reviews, by the way (wink, wink, nudge, nudge). **

**--Bookworm**


	2. Mother Knows Best

Mother Knows Best

Edward

"Can I help you with anything, Sir? A beverage? Snack?"

"No, I'm fine," I snapped at the stewardess, my tone more hostile than the situation required.

In my defense, however, she was the sixth woman to come up to my in the last hour, asking if I needed anything when I most obviously did not.

I absolutely _detested_ it when women who did not know me—and had no intention of getting to know me either—seemed to find it socially acceptable to invite me for a romp in the bathroom of an airplane.

What kind of man did they think I was?

Did I look like that kind of cad?

I mean, by normally standards, I was somewhat attractive. Hair that stood up on its end, the bronze mop seemed to never lay flat. I had my mother's eyes, my fathers face.

I was alright, I supposed.

I certainly wasn't good enough to be propositioned for sex by a perfect stranger.

And even if I was, this was the completely wrong day for such ridiculous activity.

First off, I was completely worn out from my last flight. My last _thirteen hour_ flight—count it, _thirteen—_from a small airport in the heart of Angola all the way to JFK was pure hell. Thankfully there, however, I was able to get at least a meager amount of sleep.

During this last trip, the attendants would leave me alone long enough to blink twice let alone actually get some shut eye.

Perhaps I was just bitter.

I hated flying in general, but my situation made it necessary.

I had been in Africa for almost a year, and I was ready to go home. I loved my job—it made me feel useful by helping out people who otherwise wouldn't get any help at all. As cliché as it sounded, I wanted to make a difference in the world, instead of simply existing in it.

But now it was time to go home.

I missed my mother—and her cooking—and my father. I missed my big brother. Hell, I was starting to feel homesick for my self centered sister in law.

Anything other than African desert was home sweet home at this point.

And anything beyond this plane was in my good graces.

Finally, after another hour, our plane landed in Chicago.

The sight of the airport was almost enough to make me cry. It looked so institutionalized—so American. I felt almost out of place here, alone.

As soon as my hand touched the handle of my suitcase, I saw the most brilliant sight my eyes had witnessed in the last eleven months.

My mom, tears of joy falling from her eyes to the floor, a puddle practically forming at her feet. Her hair—a shade lighter than mine—was pulled back into a pony tail, a few strands sticking out, as if she had gotten ready in a hurry.

My dad stood next to her, a wide grin filling his face. His arm encircled my mother's waist. It looked as if tears might start falling from his ice blues eyes any second.

And then my brother and his wife. The former had the biggest, most eager smile I could image. Surprisingly enough, even Rosalie seemed happy to see me.

I am not ashamed to say that my eyes filled at the sight of them.

Before I could even register the movement, my mother's arms were encircling me, her wet face buried into my shoulder. She was sobbing loudly, gasping in between her frantic words. I barely made them out, but they sounded something like, "Can't…missed you…family…apart…sweet…son".

I dropped my duffle bag on the floor, returning my mother's embrace tightly. I patted her back soothingly, pressing my cheek into her thick hair.

This was the worst part about coming home. I just felt so damn guilty to make my mom act like this.

I was the worst son ever.

Why couldn't I be like Emmett and just stay here, make my family happy?

My dad came forward after my mom, gently pulling her away. We smiled at each other, going into a full out hug. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered, pulling away to place his hands on my shoulders.

The smile on my face grew exponentially, a few tears falling out of my eyes.

This was another reason I did what I did.

Making my dad proud. It still brought child-like joy to my soul.

My brother Emmett approached me next. My eyes widened at the sight of him. Had he always been so huge? He could probably pick my two hundred pounds up with one arm.

Why smiled at each other and did the awkward one-armed-guy-hug-thing before punching each other lightly in the shoulder. We didn't say anything. There was no need to. It was simple, uncomplicated brotherly bonding.

I turned to my sister-in-law and pulled her into a quick hug, shocked at what I found. Pressed against my stomach, I felt a small bump that hadn't been there before. Rosalie would rather eat a chunk of Emmett's bicep before gaining weight.

She seemed to understand my confusion.

"I'm pregnant." She grinned happily. It was one of the only times I had ever seen all of her barriers down. Rose and I never really got along—we were civil, most of the time. But the facts were that she annoyed me and I annoyed her.

But still, I couldn't have been happier. I hugged her again, and then another arm punch with Emmett. "I'm going to be an uncle!" I exclaimed happily.

Everyone laughed.

The moment was lovely, serendipitous even.

Emmett picked up my duffle bag, throwing it over his shoulder and began to lead us out of the airport.

"I'm hungry, its breakfast time, and Eddie must be dying for some home-cooked American food."

I ignored the use of his stupid nickname, nodding with mock seriousness. "You have no idea."

Another round of laughter burst from us.

We reached the parking lot. I could clearly see Emmett's massive hummer towering over the other vehicles. For Emmett, bigger was always better.

One good thing about his monstrosity of a truck was that we could all fit. Rose and Em took the front seat, Mom, Dad and I each taking the middle row.

"How was your time there?" My mom asked when we were pulling out of the pick-up lane.

"Fantastic," I told them honestly. "But I'm glad to be home. It was hard being in a place like that."

My brother snorted loudly from his front seat. "No running toilets?"

I shook my head—the primitive accommodations had been the least of my worries. "No. It was the sadness there; in the people's eyes. And knowing, no matter what you do, thousands of innocent people—_kids—_will be dying. It's draining."

The atmosphere in the car was tense now, solemn. My Dad placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and I closed my eyes. My father was the only person who could really understand how I felt—he was a doctor; he knew how to lose a patient. And, for a good doctor, it doesn't matter if you lose one or a hundred, it still hurts.

Approaching a small dinner just minutes outside the airport, Emmett attempted to lighten the mood again.

"So, little brother, did you meet any hot African chicks while you were there? Get any?" He pulled the hummer into a parking space two-sizes too small.

I snorted loudly. I climbed out of the car, offering my mother hand. She jumped gracefully down and was followed by my father.

"No, Em."

A wide grin of mischief spread over his face. "Really? Good, because Ma' wanted to—"

I saw Rosalie's hand smack the back of Emmett's head—hard. She gave him a look that screamed "shut the hell up".

I was suddenly suspicious. "Mm wanted to _what_?" I asked, turning to make eye contact with the woman in question.

She wore an expression of pure innocence. A dead giveaway sign.

I knew that look. Hell, I _perfected_ that look.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said with just the right amount of curiosity in her voice. Dad barely managed to hide a grin.

"Hmmm" I hummed in response, raising my eyebrows in incredibility.

A hostess came up to use then, so our conversation was put on hold. I had planned to begin another attack once we reached the table, but as soon as we were all seated, m mother asked Rose about baby names. _Oh, she's good._

"So, Edward," Dad asked me, his eyes searching over the sparse menu, "What are planning to do now that you're back?"

The waitress came buy then, taking our drink orders.

"Well, first things first," I answered my father, "I need to get myself situated in with the hospital—make sure my position in still secure."

Carlisle chuckled. "Edward Cullen, the best trauma surgeon the west coast has seen in nearly a decade being turned down? I think you'll be fine."

I laughed lightly too, mostly because I knew he was right. I had built up a bit of reputation. That fact that Carlisle Cullen—famous neurologist—was my father didn't hurt much either, mind you.

"And I just need to get back into my routine."

My father glanced around at mom to make sure her attention was diverted from us before leaning in and whispering, "How long do you think you'll be staying this time?"

I the guilt washed over me because I could see the sadness in his eyes.

I never stayed here for over a year. I couldn't stay put—I had to leave, to help people.

"I'm not sure yet." I answered at last, refusing to meet his hazel eyed gaze.

Thankfully, it was time to place our meal orders.

"So Edward," my mother broached when the waitress had left again. "I wanted to ask if you would do something for you mother? She phrased it as a question. Her bottom lip jutted out, her emerald eyes growing large with begging.

She knew what that look did to people.

"What, mom?" I responded cautiously.

"well, you see…I wanted to have a little get together this Friday. To celebrate your home coming."

"A party?"

"No!" she defended at once. "A small group of us having dinner."

I raised an eyebrow again. "Who is "us", mom?" For my mother A small get together consisted of ten to fifty people. She knew I didn't mingle well.

"The family."

She was planning something. "The family and…"

"Some friends of mine."

She was being too vague.

It was time to cut the crap. "Who mom? Give me numbers and names."

Her expression fell into a perfectly planned defeated frown. "Three." She told me. "Alice and Jasper Whitlock—this absolutely darling couple. I think you'll get along so well. Alice is a bundle of energy and both you and Jasper—"

If she was trying to distract me it wasn't working. "Who else Mom?

She grimaced. Ha. Got her. "My employee." She said at last. Suddenly she was more intense, leaning toward me with a pleading expression on her timeless features. "Her name is Bella. She's so lovely. She's very pretty and has an English degree. I think you tow would be so good toget—"

"No, mom" I interrupted her.

"What?"

"I don't want any blind dates."

"Why not!" she demanded.

"it's not like you get any or your own," Emmett pointed out.

Now they were starting to annoy me. Less than two hours on the continent and they were already trying to set me up. 'Because when you all set me up, it doesn't work out well." I looked at them pointed.

I gestured towards Emmett. "Katie, Sarah, Brittany."

To Carlisle, "Tanya, Mary."

To Rosalie, "Victoria."

Each one of them at least had the thought to look ashamed.

"But I've never set you up before," My mother pointed out. "And I found Rose for Emmett. Bella would be so good for—"

"No mom."

She pouted again.

The waitress returned without food.

"Fine." My mom sighed at last. Then, a dangerous glint in her eye, "But you'll see." Se smiled smugly.

"Mother knows best."


	3. Meeting Edward

Meeting Edward

Bella

"What do you think, Bella? The chicken salad or the fish tacos?"

I moved my eyes upwards, traveling over the laminated menu to peer at a barely five-foot women who was thumping her long, professionally styled nails against the wooden surface.

"Salad." I answered Alice quickly, nodding my head as if agreeing with myself. "I don't trust any improperly place seafood dishes. It's just mean."

"Mean?" Alice asked, giggles floating on the surface of her fairy-pitched voice, "How so?"

"Tacos are made for beef and chicken—using fish is like putting a paraplegic in a track race."

Alice blinked and then burst into a loud round of giggles burst through her hot pink lips, showering over everyone in the small café. I swear I felt the atmosphere in the air lift ten percent.

Alice was often like that—energetic and happy. It's probably the reason she and her husband get along so well. She bring intense joy to everyone she mesa den he can calm down the tornado that is Alice. Plus, there's no guarantee like marrying a marriage counselor. Most of there arguments fix themselves.

"Did you just compare fish tacos to the special Olympics, Bella?"

I thought it over for a moment and then shrugged, agreeing that yes, I sort of did.

A waiter came by then, pulling out a small note pad. He was kind and polite to Alice. She gave him her order of chicken salad and when he turned to me, a large grin crossed his face.

He was semi-attractive—round, cute face and sandy blonde hair that sat in a disarrayed mop on his head. He had a dimple on the left side of his smile.

I blushed immediately, even though I wasn't sure why.

He leaned in closer, his pale blue eyes making direct eye contact with mine.

"What can I get you, miss…?" He waited politely for my name.

"Can I get the French onion soup, please?" I asked quietly, shifting my gaze downwards.

"Right away, ma'am." I could hear a slight undertone of disappointment in his monotone voice.

As soon as he had gone, I could feel Alice's sharp gaze on my face.

"What?" I asked pathetically, picking up my water to sip slowly.

Alice sighed loudly, shaking her head. "How can you go from fun-loving-joking-Bella to shy-blushing-Bella in a matter of seconds? It's like as soon as any member of the male species shows up; you become a totally different person."

I couldn't help but snort a little bit. "Not everyone is as good with guys as you were in your single days, Alice."

Alice raised a pointed eyebrow at me in question. "How would you know?" she asked.

I gave a half hearted smile to the girl that was closer to me than any sister could be. "Because I know you." All criticism as melted from my voice. That was another talent of Alice's—not one could ever hate her.

Our waiter—who had re-introduced himself as Mike—came back with our food. He sat down Alice's first, and then to me, giving me another wide smile. His hand touched the tips of my fingertips and I flinched away quickly. His smile faded.

"He wants' to ask you out," Alice told me a few minutes later, "And he's not too bad."

"He only wants me because he notices that man-shield you've got on your finger," I eyed the platinum band.

Alice snorted delicately and rolled her eyes, but otherwise dropped the subject. We went on to discuss the new project she had been assigned at work—Alice was employed at a local marketing agency, in the fashion industry.

She was the best—earning quite a reputation for her talents.

We finished our lunch in the middle of polite small talk. I carefully slipped out of the diner while Alice payed the check—we traded days—to avoid Mike.

I was still a little wobbly on my bandaged toe, unfortunately, so it took a little more effort from Alice than usual to help situate me in her yellow hack procshe. How does she have a sport car like they, you may ask.

Jasper's last aniversy gift. I love the Whitlocks to death, but sometimes they seriously disgust me.

"I'm a little late," I mumbled, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. "I hope Esme isn't too upset with me."

"She won't get there for a few minutes," Alice declared surely. "You'll be fine."

And, sure enough, when we had pulled up to the small furniture boutique, Esme was not to be seen.

I let myself in, limping over to the desk and sitting down on the barstool. Alice stood across from me, leaning over on her elbows. "Do you mind if I stay here for a little bit?" she asked, "My boss isn't at work this week and I can't stand feeling useless."

"Sure" I said easily. No one was more welcome here than Alice. I pressed the answering machine, grabbing a pad of sticky notes.

Esme's light, chiming voice rang through the telephone, "Hey, Bella. I know you and Alice will be late from lunch—you always are—so I hope you don't mind arriving with me there for a few minutes. I'm bringing in the couch shipped in from Oregon, so I volunteered some family muscles. I see you about four-thirty."

"Emmett's coming by then?" Alice asked me.

"I suppose so," I told her distractedly, turning on the thin monitor next to me. I turned the swivel chair, running a hand through my thick brown hair. I checked the clock again—12: 36.

"I'm going to check the back to see if Esme got that new comforter set in."

"Kay!" I called to her as she disappeared.

I sat for a few minutes, plugging in the correct info into the right databases.

A few minutes later, I heard the bell on the door chime, a wave of cold Chicago air hit my face.

"Hey, Esme. Got that couch in yet?"

I expected to hear her kind, female voice again, telling me that Emmett was on his was and asking about my lunch.

Which, of course, it was such a shock to hear silence.

It took me a few minutes to realize my boss hadn't said anything yet, so, realsing my lip from in between my teeth—where it was always lodged during math work—I turned around.

Instead of the petit from of Esme, there was a beautiful man.

His hair was sheen copper, his face sculpted and straight. His eyes, which were staring directly into mine, were the brightest emerald I had ever seen.

His body was lean and muscled, the lines of his six pack visible underneath his thin gray t-shirt.

He was wearing t-shirt and jeans. No one should be allowed to look that magnificent in such a simple, everyday outfit.

Finally, I remember that I was actually working here, and he likely needed something. \

Store. Furniture. Right.

"Hel...llo" my voice, embarrassingly, cracked. I cleared my throat, turning my body entirely in his direction. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

He didn't answer me for a moment, continuing that blank stare. For a moment I was worried had accidently said something different and far more mortifying.

"Edward," he said suddenly. I blinked in confusion for a moment before he continued. "My name is Edward," he clarified, smiling slightly. His grin appeared a little lopsided.

Recognition dawned on me. "Oh, Esme's son," I all but shouted. Then, with the deep red blush glowing on my face, I began to step out behind the desk. Of course, I had failed to consider the fact that I couldn't walk across a flat surface without injuring myself, and the toe wasn't much helping matters.

I was falling forward, about to eat a mouthful of carpet, when a pair of strong arms lifted me up, pulling me against his body for stability.

He was leaning down, his breath wafting over my stunned face. I breathed in, inhaling the glorious sent that had somehow over come me. It was light and rich like vanilla and yet still cold enough to be masculine.

Holy shit, what kind of cologne does this man use?

His face was inches from mine, our noses almost touching tips.

If could feel his arms encircle my back, his palms spread open to press flat against the curve of my spine.

"Bella," I said before I had thought the words out. "I'm Bella."

His lips—which were nothing if not completely kissable—turned upwards into a sly smirk. "Of course you are," his voice—rich, deep, and smooth—told me, half laughing.

It didn't escape my notice that he had yet to release me from his muscled arms. Not that I wanted him to, of course.

"Bella! Where did Esme put those—?" Alice's voice rang out through the shop. It startled me—I had entirely forgotten she was there.

Her tiny pixy figure froze in the doorway to the storage room, mouth dropping a gap. I could only imagine how the scene looked. Me-little quite, shy Bella Swan draped over a god of man I had never met before.

I pulled out of his arms instantly, another blush heating my cheeks fiercely.

"He caught me." I explained, avoiding contact with his forest eyes.

Alice appeared highly amused. "I sure he did." She cooed, smirking at me. She picked up her purse, swinging it fashionably over her shoulder and walking past us. He stopped besides me, giving me a very pointed glare. "Call me later, Bella." She said, walking away.

I looked back towards Edward, still refusing to completely meet his gaze. I was about to say something—to start up any conversation—when Edward did the honors for me.

"My mother said she needed some help with a couch…"

"Oh," I looked towards the clock. Fifteen minutes had passed. "She said she would be here soon. I can call her, if you like?"

He waved his hand dismissively in front of him. "I've got it."

He pulled a thin phone out of his pocket, holding up a finger to demonstrate for me to wait a minute. He turned away, taking a few steps in the opposite. Direction/.

"Hey, Mom," he said into the phone. I could hear the distinct voice of Esme on the other line, though I couldn't hear the actual words. Edwaed looked annoyed. I sat down on the bar stool, training my eye on his figure. "Suuure, Mom." He sighed. "You just _forgot_."

He said another few things and then hung up the phone. He pulled up a chair across from me, looking oddly exasperated.

"The shipment doesn't come in until tomorrow," he explained."She mixwed up the dates."

My brow furroded. Since when was Esme irresponsible? "That doesn't sound like her," I commented carefully.

Edward snorted—and he even sounded sexy then. How was that possible? "It sounds exactly like her," he disagreed easily.

We grw silent once again. I needed to hear his voice—to drown in it. "You just came back from Africa, right?"

He grinned—I was right, it was crooked. He was too beautiful his good and mine. "Yes, I did."

Then we began talking.

It was like we had known each other our whole life. HE told me of the people in Africa—the challenges he had to face while he was there. His voice wrapped around me like a caress, leading me towards his story. I watched the way his hands moved when he talked, how his lips curved with the words.

Then my nervousness melted away. I was no longer speaking to a gorgeous man, but a feriend. I found myself joking, laughing, and tellin gstoryies.

I asked a few times if her needed to go anywhere, but he always said he rather be there. I blushed brightly each time.

Before either of us had noticed, it was closing time.

Edward helped me secure the shop, and then walked me out. Luckily I lived close and could just walk it. He offered to give me a ride, but I declined.

This had been much less embarrassing so far then I could have hoped for. Why tempt fate?

Before I turned to leave, He called after me. "I'm having a dinner…party, I guess. Friday." Another half-smile. "It was my mom's idea. I would love it if you came. And Alice and her husband too, of course."

What could I say beside's yes?


	4. Bella the Beautiful

Chapter 4

The cool water washed over my feet, the temperature sending rough chills up my skin from the contrast of the hot island air. I was laying back in the ocean, just my feet dangling into the waters of low tide. I could feel small grains of sand underneath my fingertips, the the pebbles mixing with the minisclue fibers beneath my palms. I sighed as the warm breeze awept over me, blowing my deshevled hair from my face. But it was not a sigh of contentment.

No matter how beautiful it was here--no matter how many people would love to be here, where I was, I was never content.

I couldn't leave this place.

I didn't know how long I'd been sitting here on the beautiful ocean beach, just watching the sunset and rise without a break. I watched as the amber colors would fade where the met the ocean rising again behind me.

I couldn't stay here. I couldn't stay anywhere.

Something was waiting for me somewhere. I didn't know what it was, or why I needed it. But I did. And it wasn't here. It wasn't anywhere.

A soft humm seemed to take over the air here, in this tropical place. It grew as the air crept closer to me. The sun began to rise again. The hum grew louder, mor repeivtive. They seemed to echo in my brain, forming a deep shrill song. I shifted my feet in the water, trying to distract myself from the loud high pitch ringing in my head. It wouldn't go away...It wanted to led me somewhere...away from here...

My eyes bolted open.

I wasn't in a tropical beach, surronded by water and wind.

I was back here, in my ampartment.

The wall to my left was made out of windows, the curtain pulled closed to block out the light streaming in. There was a nightstad next to me, just to the right of my kind sized bed. On the night stand, right beside my untouched glass of water, and iPod speakers sat my phone, ringing so furiously it looked like it was going to bounce off the wood. I groaned out loud, my muscles still sore and tense from my last flights. I'd just slept for nine hours, and yet I could sleep for another ten. Jet lag was a bitch.

I reached over--all of my limbs screaming in pain--and grabbed the phone. "Hello?" I croaked out, using my unoccupied hand to rub the sleepiness out of my eyes.

"Hi, sweetheart," my mother's voie rang out, sounding oddly shrill in the morning hours. "How are you feeling."

"Tired." I croaked out, flipping my feet over the edge of the bed. I looked over to my clock and groaned again. "Mom, what are you doing calling me an ten in the morning? We have an eleven am rule--and I have major jet lag."

"I know darling," I love how my mom hasthe talent of making her voice sound sarastic and sinsere at the same time. "But I really need some help today anf your father's at work and Emmett and Rose have to--"

I interupted before she could let her guilt trip ramble on too long. "What do you need, mom?"

I could sense my mother's hesitation. That could inly mean two things. One, she was about to ask for something she knew I wouldn't want to do. Or, two, she was planning something. Honestly, it was a toss up between the two. "Well, I'm getting a couch delivered to the sotre this afternoon. I was wondering if you could help move it in." Moving a couch? In the shape I was in? I couldn't pick up a couch-cushion, let alone the whole damned thing!

"Mom..." I began carefully, unsure of how best to phrase this.

"Please, Edward?" She asked again, a thick plea in her voice. "You brother always helped me when you were in Africa." Ah, the guilt trip. My mom knew that none of the men in our family could resist the guilt trip.

I sighed in defeat. "Alright mom. What time should I be there?"

She quickly gave me the time and directions to the shop, though I remebered the way. I sighed, dropping myself back onto my bed. I had, roughly, two and a half hours before the couch was supposed to be delievered. Plenty of time for a bowl of coco-puffs.

I walked into the kitchen, looking around at my loft. Besides my bed and bathroom, the rest of my apartment was basically one big space. The kitchen melded into the living room which melted into the piano-room. The woods were a light colored hard woord and the counters of the kitchen were a melded marble. The cubords were painted white--Emmett and I actually did that ourselves. Which, of course, was why they looked so masocured.

I poured myself a bowl of the most unhealthy cereal known to man, listening to th way the flakes bounces of the ceramic. I quickly did the same with the milk, finally bringing the taste to my lips. It was soggy and choclate. I could taste the small grams of sugar as they scrapped over my teeth. I moaned softly into the spoon. This had, most definetly, made the top of my "Things Not in Africa" list.

After slowly savoring each spoonful of sweet chocolate milk.

After that, of course, I didn't have much time to do anything more than shower and dress.

After I did so, feeling much better smelling like soap and cologne than airplane and dressed in jeans and a famliar t-shirt, I stepped outside of my house. Parked downsatairs in the lot was my shinning, glistening Volvo. I walked up to it, running my flat palm over the smooth metal surface. " I missed you," I told it, before hopping in the car.

I love this car. It's safe and reliable, and yet the speed in furious. Compfortable and easy, while still giving me the thrill of slipping into the seat, hearing the snap of the seat belt. Emmett says if I find a girl like my volvo, we'd be a match in heaven.

After carefully navigating through the busy Chicago streets, I finally pulled into an empty space next to my mother's shop. There's no moving truck inside, so I decied to duck in and wait.

I like the feel of the store--it's soft and delicate while being classy. The name is in French, and the windows are large and decorated.

I step inside and look to the desk for my mother.

And, holy hell, the woman who was sitting there, typing something into the computer, was _not_ my mother.

She has her long, chocolate hair hanging gently in her face. I want nothing more than to push it out of the way, the see the rest of her ace. But I can't because I'm frozen solid. I can see the eart shape of her face and the wideness of her brown eyes. Her skin is pale and natrual. She's not wearng much make-up. But she doesn't need to.

I had to speek to her, to hear her voice. It must be lovely.

"Hey, Esme. Got that couch in yet?"

She spoke. It was her voice. Sweet, high and husky. I swallowed.

God. How will I speak to this woman? I've never been this intimidated in my life. And never, especailly, by a woman. I'm not a playboy, by any means, but I've always been good with women. Compfortable.

But, this one, she terrified me.

The woman, the gorgeous woman, turned towards me.

Her eyes grew wde with suprise. It takes me a moment to realize that she is expecting my mother not me, and I should have probably explained why I was there. But of course, that would have require speech. _And how do I do that again? Speaking?_

But she beated me to it. "Hel..llo." She seemed fluster b my silence. "Is there anything I can help you with?

_Yes. Yes there are many, many thing I need you for. And I swear, less than half of them are dirty. _

_Talk, Edward!_ I yell at myself. _Come one, Edward! Edward!_

"Edward!" I told her, the sound coming out somewhat loudly. I tried, however futile, to reconcile myself. "My name is Edward."

The girl's face lights up, as if an empany had suddenly stuck her. "Oh, Esme's son!" she exlaimed brightly, trying to step around the desk.

I'wasn't sure what she tripped over exactly, because my gaze wasn't focused on her feet, but she was suddely sailing forward, heading straight for the ground. I reacted instantaniuosly--as though I'd beeen doing it my whole life--and caught her. My hands encircled her fraigle waist, feeling her soft curves under neath my finger tips. I srpead my palms out flater over her back, breathing in her scent of florals.

I swear to God, I'm pulling out every tricj b the biid, SPorts scores, brother in womens underweare, grandmother. And nothing, absolutly nothing, is woking.

Her hair sweeps across my face, just barely tickling my nose and making me shiever slightly.

Then, she spoke again, her words lighter than a peice of dow. "Bella," she told me, "I'm Bella."

The name--besides seeming completely perfect for her--stired something in me. Bella....I had heard it before.

_My employee...she's so lovely...very pretty...english degree..._

Oh, God. _This _was the girl I'd turned down. I was a moron; a complete and total fool.

Bella and I hold that position for a few minutees--our faces nearly touching. I just had to lean forward...just a few inches...

Suddenly, the high pitched sound registering through my Bella-induced haze. "Bella!" It called out, "Do you know where Esme put those--"

A woman, a least a head shorter than Bella stepped out of the back room, her features were pointed and thin, almost fairy-like. Her hiar was cut short and spiky, and her body was thin enough to crack in half. Her tiny mouth feel open upon seeing us, her eyebrows shoting upwards.

Bella pulled out of my unwilling grasp at once, while I straightened, trying to act as though I wasn't incredibly turned on.

I looked over to see Bella's soft, pale skin abruptly turn bright rose, and I melted. How could she get any more adorable then she already was? That innocent loook in her of her blush and the way she twirled her thumbs together was nothing if not alluring. Tempting. So much. I swallowed deeply.

"He caught me," Bella explained, looking down at the ground bashfully.

The little pixie across me saw right through me, those pointed eyebrows archng higher than I thought possible. "I'm sure he did," she said with a teasing smirk. She picked up a purse near her, swinging it oer her should like she was modeling something, looked directly at Bella and told her to call her later. I'm wasn't ashmaed to feel a little terrifed of the pixe.

After she had gone, Bella turned back at me. She seemed to be looking for a way to re-start conversation, so I moved forward. I told her about meeting my mother for the couch, and she offered to give her a call for me. I told her I would do it, mostly because I had...other things to discuss as well.

"Hey Mom," I began after sh had answered, moving farther away from the beautiful girl behind the counter.

"Edward dear!" My mother said, her voice echoing with happiness. "what can I do for you."

"The couch?" I asked, growing suscpious.

"Oh my!" she said. "I forgot to tell you, the movers won't be there until tomorrrow."

Ah, my mother, the matchmaker. "Suuure mom," my tone held skeptisism. "You just _forgot._"

My mother seemed unaffected by my tone, "Have you met Bella yet?"

"I-"

"Isn't she the sweetest? I can still set up the dinner."

"Mom--"

"Please, Edward. I swear she's perfect for you! Please, let a mother have her fun!"

"Alright, mom."

My mother went on with the begging. "And I know that--" She stopped suddenly, as if finally understanding my words. I held back a laugh in responce. "Alright?" her voice was high, more accpectant. "Friday."

"Friday," we got off the phone, leaving me back to Bella.

I stepped closer, unable to deny the pull of gravity Bella had inflicted on me. I smiled, hoping to wamr her to me. "The couch dosen't come in until tomorrow, she mixed up the dates."

Bella frowned, turning her body to face me on the bar stool. "That doesn't sound like her, " she said, lines creasing on her forehead.

No, mixing up dates doesn't sound like my mother, but lying to set up her son certainly did. I snorted once, shaking my head. "It sounds exactly like her," I corrected, knowing we were talking about two different things.

The air between us grew silent again, tense. Bella was the one to break it this time. "So, you just came back from Africa?"

I smiled at her, "Yes, I did."

I pulled a chair next to the desk next her, and we contiued the conversation. I was extatic, euphoric.

Bella was shy at first, asking more questions than answering them. But after a while, I see her loosen up and she was more casual. And god, she was funny. At one point, she actually made a referance _to The Princess Bride_. My favorite movie. Holy, hell!

THen, at one point, it hit me.

Bella was a volvo. Comfortable, gorgeous. Fast and witty.

I'd found my volvo!

_Ask her out. Ask her out!_

This mantra was rolling through my head all day, ordering me to grow a pair and be a man.

It wasn't closing that I'd mangaed to.

I ended up throwing in an invite to Jasper and Alice as well, just because I didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

_She said yes! Yes! _

I practically skipped out of the store, like Gene Kelly through a thunderstorm. 


	5. The Hangover

Chapter 5

Alice was waiting for me when I came home to my flat later that night. She had let herself and Jasper inside, the latter already having dug through my refigorator for a beer. Alice perched herself on the back of my couch, her little legs practically bouncing with excitement.

As soon as my keys were thrown on the marble kitchen contor, She had pounced.

"Tell me everything," her voice had authoritative edge—urgent and demanding.

I slowly removed my jacket, hanging it on the hook nailed crookedly into my wall. Still stalling for time, I took along moment to gaze around my small apartment.

The walls were painted a pale blue, the plastor chipping where it met the ceiling. My carpet was a dusty gray, scratchy beneath my feet. The way my place was laid out, my kitchen sat directly next to the front door. The wall across from the stove was open, creating a window into the living room. In the simple, under-decorated den there sat a charcoal black leather couch, and a matcing recliner beside it. They both faced a rarely used television, which was now occupying Jasper's Cubs game. Alice had insited that this place have some since of decorum, so my leather living room furtinture matching the padding on my kitchen chairs. Who would notice a difference like that, I didn't know, but apparently they would recognize decorum.

Alice was practically growling at me know, her child-sized hands placed on her hips angrily. Her button nose was scrunched in impatience, her stelto plad toe tapping sharply againt the carpt.

"Well?" she asked finally. I was avoiding eye contact, pretending to be shifting through my mail. "I'm going to have to start dying greys before I get information out of you!"

She threw her arms up in the air, almost flailing them in indignation. I smiled; only Alice could make doing something so ridiculous look cute. Her black hair was spiker than it was at lunch, proabaly from pulling at it with irritation.

"Alice," Jasper's deep, southern draw cut in before I could. Jasper's tone was always calm and smooth, as though you were swimming in a deep lake, the water caressing around your body. "Calm down, sweetheart. Bella just got home." I could see his head of honey blonde hair leaning back on the headrest of the couch and a pair of worn cowboy boy boots carefully propped up on my glass coffee table.

Alice was loosening a little, her arms coming to rest gently at the sides, and her hazel eyes loosing the fire that once contaminated them. I smiled—only Jasper could calm Alice down so quickly.

"Thanks, Jasper!" I told him loudly, moving into the kitchen.

"Welcome!" He shouted back to me, his head never turning away from the game.

I heard Alice grumble unhappily in my direction before moving to sit with Jasper, her feet propped up on his lap.

Still in the kitchen, I quickly pulled out the unopened bottle of Sauvirnon Blanc that Esme had given me for a house warming gift. The cork screw got stuck momentarily, so I pulled hard, ending up cutting my hand when it finally realsed the cork.

I sighed at the small scrape on my palm, moving around to grab the first aid kit from the highest cabinet up. That was Carlisle's housing gift—a first aid kit for every room.

After securing the banage, I poured to glasses half way full, bring them into the living room. Although I wasn't a big drinker typiacally, interrogations with Alice usually call for alchol. I handed Alice the glass, nodding as she thanked me, and curled up in my recliner. I kicked my shoes off, curling my legs under me. I grabbed the nearest blanket and threw it over my ap, though it was planty warm enough in the room.

When I was little, my mom told me that the you could always find home in a blanket. It was still one of the only useful things she told.

I turned my attention towards the baseball game, prtending to be interesting in the score. Cubs 2—Red Sox 10. Eighth period.

"So, Bella," Alice finally approached after a moment. "Is tere anything you'd like to tell me?"

"Hmm?" I hummed out loud, taking another slow spof wine.

"Don't play dumb with me." She sad in low tone, her percing eyes turning in my direction. "What happened with that costumer? Have you been dating him? Were you holding out on me? Did you—"

I interrupted at once. There was no need to let Alice start thinking I was already secretly married with six kids. "I just met him today, Alice." I pause. "And he wasn't a costumer."

Alice lifted an eyebrow, a smirk appearing slowly on her red painted lips. "Oh, he was browsingfor something, that's sure."

"Bella's got a man?" Jasper asked, turning his attention away from the doomed baseball game.

"No." I said at the same instant Alice said, "Soon."

"He's Esme son," I told them quickly, as if that disputed anything ever happening between us.

As if it negated the way my heart ran faster and thumped louder when he lookd at me, or the quivering sensation lodged deep in my stomach whenever he flashed that gorgeously crooked grin.

"Bella's dating Emmett?" Jasper asked loudly, confused. He sat up, dropping Alice's legs to the grond roughly.

"No!" Alice told him, slapping is shoulder and rolling her eyes. She placed her feet on the coffee table—her heels barely reached over the edge. "It must be her other son. E…something. They both start with E, I know that." She puckered her brow. "Eden…Ethan…"

"Edward." I supplied.

Alice snapped at me, touching her other index finger to her nose. It already seemed the wine was getting to her—less than half a glass. She was as lightweight as they came. "Yes. Edward."

Just hearing his name made blood rush up to my cheeks, heating the thin layer of skin. I looked down, trying to pull my hair subtly in front of my face.

They saw.

Jasper elbow Alice gently. "She blushing," he pointed out, laughing.

Alice giggled too, as my pink tint began to turn scarlet. "Oh this is nothing," she informed him. "You should have seen her earlier, while she was curled up into Edward's willing arms. She was practically a tomatoe."

"He caught me when I fell," I mumbled, taking another sip. "He was just being a gentleman."

Alice snorted—a full out snort. Again, thank the white poison in her cup. "Bella, babe," babe? "I saw the way he was looking at you."

I blinked rapidly, looking up through my hair. This news startled me. "He was looking at me a certain way?"

"Like half of him wanted to eat you and the other wanted to kiss the ground you walked on."

I blushed again, the red in my cheeks erupting ten fod and traveling down y neck.

"So tell us everything," Alice insisted. "Give me a play-by-play. I'll break it down for you."

I shook my head—I knew, logically, there was no way some one gorgeous as Edward Cullen would ever look at me. I was broken, hurt, and horrible average.

"No Alice. I am not getting into this with you."

Two wine glasses later, I just couldn't keep my damn mouth shut. I started by telling her all about how he looked—how each aspect made my heart flutter widly. I broke each reaction I had down to the very fundamentals of emotions, trying to make her understand how quickly this man had affected me.

Then I moved onto to our conversation, sharing everything he told me about himself. How he was a doctor, why he did what he did, even though know one seemed to understand him. How he seemed like such a kind, lost soul. How he was so smart and funny. How he recognized my quote from Zoolander.

"God!" Alice had gasped, swaying back and forth dizzily. "There's two of you who like that movie!"

I went on and on.

How smart he was.

How I briefly contemplated dragging him into the back. Yeah that admission made me blush too.

Then, just after Jasper had decided he and Alice were both too drunk to drive home and was almost passed out on my floor, I made the worst mistake I've made in a while. I was telling Alice that all of us were invited to his dinner party on Friday when she jumped ten feet in the air and squealed. "It's a date! And he's bringing you to meet his family! Omigod! We have to go!"

I had drunkenly ponited to her, shakening my finger at her. Or well, I think it was in her general direction. "I already know his family." I said seriously. "Why would he take me to meet them?"

Alice stuck her tounge out at me and said, her tone defiant. "It's different!" But because she hadn't put her tongue back in her mouth, it came out "It'th diffient". I t had seemed so funny I had laughed for fifteen minutes straight.

What wasn't funny, however, was when that same voice was calling me to conciousness the next morning.

My head was throbbing deeply, the sound of a loud car smacking against the inside of my skull pounding in my ears. The rays of light coming from above me were burning directly into my retnas to my nerves centers. A painfully high pitched squeak was coming from next to me, repeating something over and over. I couldn't make out what it was, so I focused harder.

"Get up! Get up! The sun has been up for hours! The malls already open! Get up! Get up!"

I rolled my eyes back in my head, gazing at Alice face behind me. My muscles felt too sore to move. Too sore to do anything. "No!" I moaned out, pulling the blanket on top of me over my head.

From beside me, I heard a deep tumbling treble echo. "I'm with Bells, Ali. Head, hurt. Sleep."

"Mmm hmm." I groaned in agreement, my eyes beginning to close.

"No!"Alice squeaked out.

Both Jasper and I groaned out together. "Not so high pitched, Alice." Jasper said seriously. "Lower the octive."

Alice ignored both of us. "Bella and I have to go to the mall! And I made pancakes!"

I sat up, ignoring the anguish sting in my head at the motion and looked over to the kitchen. I inhaled, smelling the fruity scent of bluberries mixed in with the thick smell of batter. "Pancakes?" I grunted. Hangover food. I needed coffee--lot's and lot's of coffee. "Good."

Alice snorted and leaned over, handing me a pair of sunglasses. "Come one she-ra. You've got exactly one hour to eat, be dressed, and in the car."

I sat up slowly, putting the glasses on and rubbing my head with the palms of my hands. The dimming of the light barely helping.

I finally made my way into the kitchen, sitting down on the table. Jasper appeared next to me, looking just as miserable as I felt. How much beer had he gone through last night? A case...two? Alice and I had finished off at least that bottle of wine and one batch of margaritjas.

"Hey." Jasper gurnted at me, digging into the stack of pancakes Alice had sat in front of him.

"Hey." I grunted back. Then, my moth full of flapjacks and coated with syrup. "Why are we going to the mall anyway?" I asked Alice.

She was sitting across from us, chipper as could be. Her hair was perfectly set and spiked, her make-up flawless. She was also wearing a different outfit from yesterday. I knew that I had needed to go grocery shopping and that I hadn't had the ingrediants to make breakfast. Alice must have gotten up early to shop, go back home and change.

Where was Alice's killer hangover? Why was the world so damned unfair? Where wad the justice?

"You promised me." Alice told me sipping at her coffee. Both Jasper and I looked at her cup like a pack of hungrey wolves and Alice rolled her eyes, fixing both of us a mug. As she sat back down, I questioned. "When did I promise this?"

"Last night."

"When?"

Alice giggled and winked at me, ruffling Jasper's hair mae no move to notice her, piling his food inside his mouth rapidly. "Right in between describing every shade of green in Edward's eyes and preforming our duet of "Endless Love"."

I frowned deeply. "I don't remember that." I informed her, sipping at the coffe." I looked to Jasper, who shrugged and continued eating.

"I'm not surpised," Alice told me, "You were completely off key."

"Hmm." I mumbled, rubbing my temples.

"You need to go hope in the shower," Alice directed after a few moments, rmoving my plate of pancakes. I objected loudly, trying to reach it with my fork, but she dodged out of the way.

"But Alice! It's only..." I glanced at the clock. "Eight-fifteen!"

"Exactly!"Alice excalimed loudly. She nodded her head vigorously. "The malls been open for a whole hour!" then she grabbed my by the arm, dragging me into the bathroom. She turned the water on the coldest setting available. I had started to undress, by because my movements were still so sluggish, I had only managed to take off my shirt when Alice shoved me in the shower.

I screamed at the temperature changed, but my best friend was gone by the time I had picked up the shampoo to throw at her.

I broke my own rule, god dammit. Never tell Alice about any invite until the absolute last minute.

Shit. My head hurt like hell. And now I had to go shopping.

I groaned, picking up the bottle of shampoo from the floor and beging to appease my best friend.


	6. Author's Annocment Sorry!

SEARCHING FOR NEW TWILIGHT BETA

Possible Betas must:

-have previous betaing expirance

-have at least limited knowledge of the Twilight Saga

-be punctual in editing and returning stories/chapters

-have better spelling than I do (although that isn't very difficult)

Would like if Betas:

-contributed personal ideas as well as grammatical changes

-have written own stories before

-had read some (though not nessacarily be a favorite) of my work

-be willing to be honest, even if insulting my work, while betaing

To apply for betaing, please inform me in a PM

Do NOT offer betaa services in a review

--Thanks, Bookworm1027


	7. Author's Annocment 2

**Author's Annocment! **

I am in need of :

-Good writters who have written at least three stories

-Somone who is willing to put in hard work

-Someone with vast knowledge of Fanfiction (preferablly not limited to Twilight)

-Somwhat who can read long stories quickly and throughly

I am starting up a unique oppritunity that enables readers, and writters, to post their thoughts and make comments that will be wide spread. It will help sharpen writting skills, and possibly promote stores.

Please PM if intrested!


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